Star Spangled Border
by American50Amber
Summary: It was the best kept secret the nations never knew of, and it was intended to stay that way, but secrets can't be kept forever. After Britain's conversation on the phone with America ended with America being brutally attacked, Britain and a few other nations find themselves crossing a border they should have never crossed. America's secret crumbles, and nobody can be trusted.
1. Let's Play A Game

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, L'ÉTATS-UNIS!" America almost didn't hear the call over the roaring music that filled the yacht. He turned his head to see France running in his direction with a wrapped box in hand. France halted directly in front of him, and handed him the box. "Open it up! Your big brother France made it after all, so you know that it's going to be good!"

America paused with his hand about to untie the box covered in rose patterned wrapping paper. He eyed the French country carefully, "I'm not sure if this present would be appropriate to open in public..."

France let out a care-free laugh, "Don't worry, it's not the same present as last year!"

With an eager nod America started to rip open the box with the same enthusiasm of a child. Once the wrapping paper was on the floor and the lid flew off, he glanced inside. There was a variety of French pastries in a clear box. What was sitting on top of the box was the thing that threw America off. There was a bottle of lube, handcuffs, and some other suggesting items that he would rather not recall. America glanced up at France with a blush and a raise of his eyebrow, "I thought you said you didn't get me the same present as last year."

"I didn't, I added my beautiful pastries! My cooking has to be the best thing that I can give you, non?" France's eyes sparkled with pride.

America stared out the window at the large green statue that stood proudly on a small island, "Definitely not."

France followed his gaze and chuckled, "Well if you compare this present to that one, then surely my pastries must be nothing."

America nodded, "Yeah, this is the first day she's opening up again after the storm too!" It sure was appropriate that the Statue of Liberty opened for the first day since Hurricane Sandy on the same day that his citizens celebrated his nation's glory.

France bent down and picked up the lid to the present, "Well that's good! Here, you might want to cover up that present. You can save it for the birthday l'amour you're probably going to have." He raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

America blushed and quickly covered the box, "Well, I better put this with the rest of the presents. Thanks France! Hey, before I go, have you seen England?"

France paused to think for a second before shaking his head with a slight frown, "No….. but don't worry! I was with him when we all got on the yacht, so he's definitely on board. I bet he's near the bar. If I see him I'll tell him that you were looking for him."

America nodded, "Alright, well once again thanks for the gift!" France yelled something close to a "you're welcome" over the music before joining Prussia and Spain on the dance floor. America slowly shuffled through the crowd to the present table. The table was completely piled with colored boxes; some even had to be stacked on the floor around the table because there wasn't enough room. America crouched down to place France's gift on the floor behind the pile just in case somebody knocked over the table and the lid came off. He wouldn't be too happy if his guests saw what France had given him.

When he stood back up, he glanced around the bottom floor of the glorious boat they were on. Renting a yacht for his birthday was a good idea. There were four floors. The bottom floor, which he was on was lit up with bright neon-colored lights. The main focus of the floor was the DJ booth and the dance floor.

Feet shuffled and everybody was moving like there was no tomorrow. There was twirling, jumping, and space was cleared for anybody willing to break dance. The DJ played anything that was requested, even when Austria requested Chopin. He and Hungary attracted tons attention with their very sophisticated ballroom dancing. Right now, the speakers nearly shook from the strong base as some dub step erupted the room. There were a couple of seats set off to the side for anybody who was tired of dancing, but it didn't look like any of them were being used tonight. The back of the room had a small bar and the table full of presents. America quickly scanned the bar stools in search for England, but the bar was nearly empty, for a popular song was playing and everybody was dancing to it.

"Well, are you just going to stand around, or are you going to dance?" a sweet voice called, tickling his ears. He turned his head to see a beautiful blonde looking his way. She wore a shimmering white dress that didn't quite go past her knees and blue high heels. America didn't know her name yet, but he had known her for years, if not much longer than that.

The thing that everybody remembered her by was her hair. Her golden hair went down to her elbows in waves and curls. Her hair never settled in one direction, and was wild and unpredictable. Her hair was gold, not blonde, and the color could be seen through the flashing lights reflecting off of it. Her well-shaped lips were covered in a dangerous red lip gloss, her blush defined her cheek bones, and her smoky eye shadow lit up her sea blue eye. Only one eye could be seen due to her wild bangs that curled over her left eye. She smiled coolly at America as she leaned against a wall, "Well, America?"

America smiled jovially and took her arm, "Let's dance!" He proposed. He was about to lead her to the busy dance floor before he caught the sight of France, Spain, and Prussia twerking. His eyes twitched and he asked, "How about a place a that's a little more formal?"

The blonde followed his gaze and laughed, "That would be nice. Top floor?"

"Yeah!" With his arm still wrapped around hers, they both walked up the stairs. The second floor was almost as busy as the first. There were several hot tubs on the second floor, and the music could still be heard. Guests all sat in the hot tubs, talked, and sang along to the catchy songs they knew. They walked through the second floor, but by the time they reached the first hot tub, the woman reached her foot across America's and he fell to the ground. Laughter could be heard throughout the area as the hot tub users watched America in amusement. After the embarrassing fall, he scrambled to his feet and chased her. "Hey! Lady! You can't just push down the hero!" With this, they began racing through the yacht, laughing and screaming.

America still had no idea how she was able to match his speed while wearing those expensive and painful-looking shoes. After glancing at them earlier, he had made the decision that those shoes could be used as torture devices. When they almost ran over a waiter with a handful of food, they started to slow down and catch their breath.

They now reached the third floor, and there was a sizeable difference between the two floors. The third floor was very classy. The DJ music was drained out of the room and smooth jazz could be heard through the wall speakers. There was a small indoor seating room, but almost everybody that wanted to eat was upstairs. Most of the floor was all kitchen area. All along one wall, were doors that led to the large kitchens. Waiters bustled in and out with food and orders scribbled on a small notepad. As they both leaned against one of the walls, America looked over at her and laughed.

"What?" She asked in confusion.

He shook his head, "It's nothing really. It's just that you went from a pretty woman to a playful child in a matter of seconds."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I'm pretty? I didn't know that we were in that kind of a relationship to give each other such complements."

America tilted his head, "So I'm not allowed to call you pretty now?"

The woman smirked, "No, I'm perfectly fine with it. By the way, you look pretty sexy yourself."

America blushed and brushed his hands against the clean black suit he wore, purposely drawing attention to it, "I always do my best."

"Yeah, like last year when you started a food fight? I bet you were caring so much about your outfit then."

America snorted, "Well you're the one who helped me start it, didn't you?"

The blonde didn't answer as she started to stroll through the small dining area. They stepped up the empty stairway to the top floor. The top floor was definitely the best in America's opinion, because it was an open space with no walls or windows. There was only a railing to prevent anybody from falling off, and tables set up everywhere. Waiters would glide from table to table, gracefully taking orders and delivering food. Near the tables was a bar where the bartenders were flipping wine bottles and creating fancy drinks for anybody who was interested. Past the tables and the bar was a small clearing there was an orchestra that played beautifully. America glanced up at the outline of New York City. The city was lit up now as the sun started to set, the Statue of Liberty and the city behind her started to darken in front of the colored sky.

"Nice, isn't it? The fireworks will be starting soon too." She whispered, as if her voice would disrupt the unique tranquility of the city that never slept.

They strolled through the top floor for a little while. America gave a small nod in greeting to the nations there. He scanned the room for England. Italy and Germany shared a table. America watched as Italy tried to feed Germany a forkful of pasta. Germany declined, and a tiny disappointed "ve" could be heard. Switzerland and Liechtenstein were not too far away, enjoying their meal in easy silence. Japan, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea all sat in a group, talking and laughing.

A couple more nations that America that had a problem recognizing with their backs turned to him sat at the bar. He didn't see England anywhere though. He was starting to wonder if he jumped off the boat when he first got on, because he didn't see him the whole time he was here. They passed the bar, and continued to the small clearing where the orchestra was set up. Hungary and Austria were slow dancing to the soothing music. America held the blonde's hand in his and led her towards the clearing, "Ready for that dance?"

She put her arms around America's neck and he placed his hands around her, "Of course I am." They started off with a simple slow dance until the song ended. Then violins and cellos soon created a very daring song with a certain edge to it.

Austria and Hungary converted to doing a ballroom dance. The woman with America took a step back and America stared at her in confusion. She then stepped towards him again, this time instead of putting her arms around his neck, she took America's hand and held it outwards, then she planted her other hand on his shoulder. America placed his remaining hand around her lower back and they began to dance. America and the blonde beauty matched each other's steps; they even did some of the ballroom moves that one would see on TV.

The other nations started to notice their graceful dancing when the blonde swiftly glided her foot across the floor as America leaned her back. America could hear the gossiping whispers, but ignored them and focused on the music. America shared a quick look with Austria before removing his hand from the girl's and spinning her across the clearing. Austria did the same and America caught Hungary in his arms with certain elegance.

"So who's the girl?" Hungary asked as he twirled her around.

"Just a friend," America answered easily.

"Does this _friend_ have a name?" She pressed.

The American twirled her again for a quick moment to think, "Uhhhh….Eureka! Yep! Her name is Eureka."

Hungary nodded, "That's a pretty name."

America quietly agreed with her, he was really hoping that Eureka introduced herself to Austria with the same name. He decided to quickly change the subject, "Dude, that is a cool dress!" He beamed loudly.

She looked down at her green dress that went down to her ankles, "Thank you!" she exclaimed kindly. "You are ever the gentleman today!"

America rubbed the back of his neck. "It is my birthday after all…. I am more mature!" Hungary smiled and spun around the room with him. They continued to dance for a minute or two in a comfortable silence. America then twirled her back to Austria and soon Eureka was spun into his arms, "Your name is Eureka for tonight." He whispered mischeivously.

Eureka snorted, "Really? You couldn't have been more creative? You've used that name a thousand times. Besides, I told the other European that my name is Calandra."

America stared at her, "And _I'm_ the one who has to be more creative? Exactly how many times have you used that name?"

"I usually introduce myself as Callie, so not that often."

America glanced over at the dancing couple; Austria and Hungary were talking to each other as they danced. Their expression could be read as a little confused, they must have told each other the golden girl's name. He turned back to the girl, "Eureka can be your last name."

"Calandra Eureka... I'll have to get used to that one for the night," Calandra said with a soft smile.

America softly chuckled, "So how are the others?"

"Good, most of them are trying to avoid the nations. The rest of them... not so much. Don't worry though; none of us would dare call each other out by our real names." Calandra looked in Austria's and Hungary's direction, "It looks like they have some questions."

"And we'll give them some answers, Calandra Eureka." He once again spun Calandra to Austria and Hungary took his hand.

"So Austria heard a story a bit different from yours," Hungary stated.

"Did he?" America raised his tone a little in state of a question.

"Yes." Hungary looked into his eyes, "So her name _isn't_ Eureka, but it's Calandra?"

America laughed and shook his head, "No you got it all wrong, Eureka is her last name. Her name is Calandra Eureka."

The Hungarian paused for a second, "Well that name sure is interesting, does she live in Europe?"

"No, she's from California. She is European though."

"Oh, I see." Hungary twirled back to Austria and Calandra landed in his arms once again.

"Austria didn't ask you where you're from, did he?"

Calandra nodded, "I said I live in Europe…..it would explain the weird name."

"Crap," America muttered. The song thankfully ended and clapping could be heard throughout the whole floor. The two couples bowed with the orchestra before parting ways as another slow song began to play. America gazed at Austria and Hungary nervously, "We should go."

"I haven't tried out the hot tubs yet," Calandra stated with a shrug.

America nodded in agreement and quickly pulled her down the stairs, "I'll drop you off at the second floor, and then I'll get the DJ to announce that the fireworks are going to start soon." They calmly walked through the small indoor dining area and flew down another flight of stairs. America paused once they reached the second floor, "The changing areas are over there," he said as he pointed to the back of the room.

Calandra smiled, "Alright, see you when the fireworks come, tell DJ _Mass_ I said 'hi'."

America blinked, "_He's_ the DJ?" The blonde nodded and he laughed, "I didn't know that he was so interested in the DJ buisness."

Calandra shrugged, "I guess that he wanted to do it," Calandra started to walk towards the back of the room. "Goodbye for now!"

America waved his goodbye and stepped down the stairs. The dance floor was just as busy as it was when he left. America nearly lost his patience trying to reach the DJ booth. Behind the DJ booth was a young man wearing a pair of sunglasses and a fifty dollar hat. He was talking to a girl about requesting a song. "Hey Massy! Whatcha you doin'?"

"Massy" glanced over and quickly turned to the girl, most likely promising to play the song she requested, and walked over to him, "The name's DJ Mass, and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So far the only thing I know how to do is play the requested songs," his Boston accent sounded more than a little confused.

America laughed, "Let me guess,…." America began.

"Go for it." Massachusetts stated directly, his tone matching his crisp business suit.

"Ok…I'm guessing that…. somebody left you with the job as the DJ while they went to eat some food or something?"

Massy nodded, "That would be DJ NV, don't worry though, I've been doin' this for about an hour now and I think that I'm starting to get the hang of it. Anyways DJ NV gave me this hat and these cool sunglasses, so I'm alright with running the DJ booth for a while."

"Alright Massy, if you say so. Could you announce that the fireworks are going to start soon?"

"Of course, America. Let me just..." Massy leaned over the DJ booth and scanned past all of the different buttons, "Do you know how to work this thing?"

The American snorted and grabbed a microphone, "Press that button." Massy pushed on the button he pointed to and the music paused, the dancing stopped almost immediately and the crowd stared towards the DJ booth in confusion. America tapped the microphone with his fingers a couple of times. Once hearing the tapping echo throughout the area, he brought the microphone to his mouth. "Hey dudes! Sorry to interrupt your awesome dance moves, but the fireworks are going to start any minute now!" Cheers erupted through the first and second floor, and America wasted no time in grabbing Massy's hand and dragging him up the stairs. The Guests soon followed. Both men charged up the yacht in hopes of beating the crowd. They were lucky that the second floor was still trying to dry off as much as possible and the third floor was basically only the staff in the kitchen. They soon reached the top floor and raced to the railing so that they could get a good view.

Massy let go of America's hand, "I'm gonna go watch the fireworks with the other states, alright? I heard they're gonna be wicked awesome!"

America smiled, "It's all cool dude!" Once he left, a couple of countries stood by America.

"So the fireworks are going to start soon? Fantastico!" Italy exclaimed.

America nodded, "Yup! Better get out your cameras! 'Cause this is going to be awesome!"

Italy let out a small squeal of joy, "Yay! Your dancing was spectaculo by the way!"

"Well, ballroom dancing usually attracts all of the classy ladies, so it's nice to show off my moves when I can."

"Who was that girl anyways?" Germany asked curiously.

Austria and Hungary found room to stand next to Germany, "Her name is Calandra Eureka, she lives in Europe _and_ California," Austria said with a skeptical tone of disbelief.

America stared at Austria in confusion, "Did I say California? Sorry, dude! She lives in Europe most of the time, but she has a beach house in California, she stays there every summer."

Austria eyed him suspiciously while Hungary laughed, "How silly this situation is! You really confused us for a moment!"

America forced a laugh and Austria turned his head to look at the view. He suddenly felt a buzz in his pocket and took his iphone out to read a new text message.

_Did they buy any of your bullshit? -Calandra Eureka_

America had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing, he glanced around to see the blonde now in a bathing suit staring at him with her phone in hand.

_Pretty sure they did. You have a beach house in California, which you stay at every summer. You live in Europe every other time. -USA_

_Cool, now put your phone away, I think I saw a firework -Calandra Eureka_

America shoved his phone in his pocket excitedly just as he heard Italy shout, "It's starting! Fratello, it's magnifico!" Italy pulled over an angry looking Lovino.

"Whatever bastardo." America chuckled. The Italy brothers and him were pretty close.

Everybody stared in wonder as fireworks exploded everywhere. The sky was lit up with colors and smoke. The orchestra that had consumed the ballroom dancing was now playing the Star Spangled Banner. America leaned forward and watched the scene unfold with pride. His nation has come so far, what had been a band of colonies had united and formed this amazing country. Long ago, on this exact day, The thirteen colonies declared their independence as the United States of America. The war was anything but a good time, but it was all worth it. War is always painful, even to the victorious. Even so, when he told his men the verdict of the battle, their pride and unity made up for everything that had been lost. Their independence was won, and to this day, they celebrate the day that officially started the battle against the once-large empire. America always loved this day. It was the one day where all of his stress disappeared. For one day a year, he could finally appreciate the good things he has done instead of looking down on the bad.

None of his bosses bothered to contact him past a simple happy birthday message, for they knew that he didn't even want to think about work on this day. America almost allowed himself to frown at the thought that there would be a tomorrow, but then he shook his head in an attempt to banish those thoughts and focused on the fireworks. The sky was practically gone, due to the many fireworks that peppered the sky. Everything was completely black against the bright explosives. Everybody always went insane about the Independence Day fireworks, and there was no blaming them.

There were shouts and cheers and one man even stood on a chair and started to sing the anthem along with the orchestra. Soon almost everybody was singing the beautiful song, only the countries didn't, but they weren't American and still had their pride to hold onto, so they were excused.

Once the finale came to an end, America glanced over to the crowd to see the staff rolling in a giant cake covered in stars and stripes. Obnoxious but miraculously in-tune singing filled the yacht, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALFRED! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! TANTI AUGURI A TE, TANTI AUGURI A TE, TANTI AUGURI PER L'ALFRED, TANTI AUGURI A TE!"

"ARE YOU ONE, ARE YOU TWO, ARE YOU THRE-"

America turned to Italy with an amused smile, "Let's not do that. The party will be over by the time you reach my age."

"Well, it's not that bad. Just imagine how long it would take if we did that at China's birthday party," Russia said with a chuckle.

"Hey!" China called out in protest.

Canada rolled the cake closer to America, whispering as quietly as usual, he said "Make a wish and blow out the candles!" Canada was waiting almost too eagerly for his brother to lean over the cake. The second he blew out the last candle, Canada pressed a button, and cake went flying everywhere. America stood there dazed for a second, his face was barely recognizable with all of the frosting caked over it. His suit was also completely covered in cake.

The yacht erupted with laughter and America turned to Canada, "You made my cake explode?"

Canada smirked, "Nice, eh?"

America nodded, "Really nice. So nice in fact, that I should give my sweet brother a hug for his generosity." America extended his arms and took a step forward.

Canada then took a step back, "A-America, don't you dare!"

America let out an overly-dramatic gasp, "You don't want a hug from your own brother on his birthday!? And they say all Canadians are nice!" He started running towards his brother with his arms still extended.

"AMERICA, NO!" Canada scrambled through the crowd, trying to put as much distance between him and his brother as possible, but America continued to thunder after him. Soon enough Canada had his body being crushed against America's. He could already start to feel the frosting stick to his suit. "Gross," he muttered.

America laughed and ruffled his frosting covered hands through Canada's hair, causing him to wince. "Think of the bright side, bro! No matter what happens, you can't possibly have more cake on you than I do!" America stopped hugging him and went back to the exploded cake, "So does anybody want a piece?" Japan quickly shook his head. "Why not, Japan? Not only is it colored, but it exploded! Can such awesomeness be combined in a single cake?"

Massachusetts walked up to America, "Well obviously it can't since all the awesomeness exploded the cake." They both watched the destroyed cake be wheeled away by a couple of waiters. "The cake never does survive for eating does it? Every year somethin' happens where the cake is demolished and everybody is covered in frosting." He leaned a little closer to avoid anybody else around him hearing but America, "Meet me with the others on the other side of the floor, got it?" America gave him a nod, "Alright, well see you latah!" The temporary DJ walked away without looking back.

America watched him for a second before turning his attention back to the other countries. "Who was that?" Canada asked.

"He was the DJ!" Prussia announced.

America nodded in agreement, "Yeah, speaking of that, the dance floor's going to come back to life in a couple of minutes."

"Really!? Awesome!" Prussia dragged France and Spain back down the stairs.

America used the scene that Prussia made as an opportunity to quickly slip away from the crowd. He passed the bar and the orchestra as quietly as possible and made a sharp turn around the boat. This side of the boat was barely used throughout the whole evening since it didn't have the stunningly beautiful scene of the city skyline and the Statue of Liberty that the other side had. Which was good since he could meet these familiar faces without any questions from the others. Massy and Calandra looked up at him as he came closer and closer, "There's the birthday boy! Damn, do you look nice!" Calandra swiped a chunk of frosting from America's cheek and licked it off her finger.

"Like I said, I always try my best!" Calandra snorted in response.

"Finally! Where the fuck were you for the past hour?!" Massy nearly shouted at a man wearing swim trunks and sunglasses.

The man shrugged, "I was checking out the hot tubs!"

Massy could have slapped him right then and there, but he held back. "What!? NV, You left me at the DJ booth for a whole hour! I had no idea what I was doin'!"

NV laughed, "Sorry about that, how about I make it up to you and work the DJ booth with you instead of just leaving you. I can show you how to make them all dance!"

America pointed to Massy, "Massy had them going pretty well too."

"Yeah, you should have seen Spain, Prussia, and France!" Calandra and America both burst out laughing.

"If you're going to be the DJs then you better get down there fast, 'cause those three are already waiting for you."

NV nodded, "Alright, well let me just get changed and I'll meet you down there."

Massy narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, like I'll be waiting there for anothah hour while you enjoy the hot tub! I'm going with you and we'll both go down togethah!"

NV started walking away, "Alright, I'll admit that I was planning to do that. Smart decision, DJ Mass. Come on then, by the way, America! Your present is on the table!" NV grabbed Massy's wrist and his hand covered what looked like a white bracelet and dragged him forward.

"Alright, thanks dude!" One thing America noticed with the present table was that all of the presents were addressed to him by their fake names. It was sure going to be fun trying to figure out which present was from which mystery guest.

"Hey, America!" A sharp Brooklyn accent called. A man approached him with a girl besides him. The man had stylish short brown hair and wore a clean suit and a pair of sunglasses, the girl had stunningly bright hair that matched the leaves around fall time. Only one of her forest green eyes could be seen, for she purposely brushed her hair over the left side of her face, she wore a ruffled green dress and bark brown heels.

"I'm sorry, and your name is?"

America could barely see the man roll his eyes through his sunglasses, "You know my name, but for tonight it's Jay Excelsior, and this is Clover Montpelier," Jay said introducing the red-head.

"Let me guess, the Jay came from the movie, The Great Gatsby?"

Clover rolled her eyes, "He only saw the movie four times."

"What's better than a good movie, old sport?"

"You dragged me with you to see it four times, Jay, four times!" Clover shook her head and turned her attention back to America, "Well, happy birthday!" Her voice was as sweet as maple syrup.

"Are we still on for the 6th?" Jay asked.

America nodded excitedly, "Of course! Leave your fake identities at home, 'cause we're gonna have the most raging party at my house, and only you guys are invited!"

"You supply the music and we'll bring the food!" Calandra cheered.

"Well I better get back to the nations before they start to wonder where I am, have any of you seen England by the way?"

"Why would anybody want to see that fucking limey of a red coat?" Jay spat. His tone was dry and his eyes burned with a certain hatred through his glasses.

Clover rolled her eyes, "Relax, Jay. We haven't seen him. Are you sure that he's on the yacht?"

America shrugged, "France said he was, but I haven't seen him this whole time. If you see him, tell me, alright?"

"Hopefully we won't."

"Jay!"

"It's fine, really," America stated. There was no point in trying to convince Jay to think good of England, he gave up trying to do that years ago. "See ya later!" America started heading back to the other side of the boat. The top floor was filled with familiar faces, but America pretended that they were just random people to fill up the yacht.

It was a fun game, acting like strangers and using the most ridiculous names they could think of. It all happened directly under the other's noses too. There were a couple of times the countries grew suspicious, but never enough to actually search deeper for answers. Only skimming lightly through the topic, then forgetting all about it later. "Oh, sorry miss," He said as he purposely brushed his arm against a woman he knew. She wore a long red dress and a white burette that flopped over her left eye.

"Watch where you're going," she said with a snotty tone that was caked over her slight southern accent, but her visible eye shined with amusement. America had to stop himself from bursting out laughing, and he could tell by the way the corners of her mouth twitched that she was having the same problem. "Next time you bump into me, try not to do it while covered in cake, asshole."

America smirked and playfully tapped her nose with his finger, leaving a dab of frosting, "I'll try not to." She nearly lost it there, she used the excuse to hide her smile when she started to wipe the frosting off of her nose. America continued walking until he saw Canada again, "Yo, Canadia!"

Canada sighed, "It's Canada, and I have a question for you."

"What?" He asked almost nervously. Canada's tone was very direct, and he knew that his brother only used that tone when he thought something was wrong.

"What is up with everybody's eye?" The Canadian asked bluntly.

America stared at him in fake confusion, "What do you mean?"

Canada looked around, "Are you trying to tell me that you haven't noticed? Every single person here but us personifications is covering their left eye somehow. Even that girl that you were dancing with did it. What's going on?"

America paused, it seemed like the game wasn't played under _every_ nose. He decided to laugh it off, "Really? I haven't noticed! It must be a new fad going on, it does look pretty cool!"

Canada shook his head, "The fads in your country are so weird." He dug into his now clean suit jacket and took out a handkerchief, "Here You might want to clean yourself up."

America let out a loud laugh, "I think that I need more than that tiny handkerchief to clean this mess you made!"

"Well jump in the hot tub then!" Canada called over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

His brother followed him, "I just might have to!" Before going down the stairs, America glanced backwards.

Everybody was enjoying themselves. They ate, they talked, they drank, they danced, and they listened to music. As long as none of them broke the rules, they could do whatever they wanted.

The rules of the game were simple; don't give away your identity, don't cross any borders, and don't get caught.

America smirked as he walked down the stairs. They started playing this game before America even knew about it, or them. The game even began before the very first Independence Day was being celebrated. America knew that he could continue the rest of the night without a problem, for there was nothing to worry about.

They were damn good at playing the game.

So the game continued.

XXX

**Author's note: Hey everybody! Amber reporting for duty! Alright so this plot bunny has been bugging me for a pretty long time, and I just had to turn it into something. This story requires so much research that it's ridiculous, but worth it. So this is a new story that I'm starting which is probably going to turn into a very complicated plot. And what better way to start it than America's raging birthday party? I hope that everybody has a nice independence day! History is my love to I'm happy to celebrate any day that involves a historic event. For those of you who aren't celebrating the 4th since obviously not everyone lives in America, just have a good day in general!**

**Alright, well I am trying to step up my writing skills so I am doing somethings with this story that I haven't before. First of all I am trying to write in the 3rd person POV. I usually write in 1st person, so if you see any slip ups, please tell me and I will correct it instantly. Anothing thing that I am doing is checking over my writing more often before posting it. Looking over my earlier work I realized how often I let spelling errors slip into my stories, also I barely revised my writing before. That shall change! I probably reread this chapter and edited it over fifty times. Well, I hope you like the story and the next chapter will be posted soon!**

**By the way, big shout out for northstarwarriorqueen, the beta reader for this story! She's amazing, and I give her much credit for the amazing vocabulary and all of the other awesome edits she made!**


	2. Filled of Danger and Lies

England paced around the decorative living area of the large hotel he was in. His dress shoes had skid over the rich red velvet rug spread on the floor for hours now.

He was tired, really tired, but he couldn't keep his eyes closed for a mere second. England ran his hand through blond strands that were soaked with sweat; he considered turning the air conditioner up, but he couldn't get past the pacing trance he was in to do so.

Yes, it was only the humidity that was causing his sweat, he tried to convince himself.

In reality; he simply just couldn't stand this time of the year. In the beginning of every July, he was always completely out of it. His nerves would become uncontrollable, and he would have very painful aches.

The worst part was that he was in the country that started all of this pain. France dragged him to his bloody party too. That Frog. Almost every country (including himself) was in North America from the first of July to the fifth. They first celebrated Canada's birthday party (which America insisted that he set up for his brother every year. Canada did not mind one bit, enjoying how America made it a surprise party every year, even though he saw it coming.) They would then enjoy and tour Canada for a couple of days before traveling to the United States for America's birthday party.

Most nations usually stayed an extra day, since America's parties often didn't end until early in the morning, and most of them had record hangovers and couldn't deal with the annoying airport regulations with such a headache. Some countries stayed for a little longer; enjoying the stress-free time off and touring New York City, but England couldn't bother to stay past the fifth.

Right now what he should have been doing was getting some sleep so that he could go to the airport and go home with some energy. After all, the yacht that America's party was on didn't see land until four in the morning. England still could not bring himself to fall asleep though. He had never changed out of his suit either, for the second that he had closed the door to the hotel, the pacing had begun.

He was agitated, and not at anybody else but himself. He hated how he couldn't bring himself to talk to America at the party. Every time he was about to approach him, America would go off with one of the countries or one of the guests. That was no excuse though. The truth was that England was avoiding the American the entire time. He didn't start to feel guilty until France caught up with him sometime after the firework show and told him America was looking for him. He really should have told him 'happy birthday' or at least gave him some kind of sign that he cared and wished him a good time.

He should call him, he thought as he paced around the room, but he didn't know what he was going to say. England stole a quick glance at the clock.

12:00

He let out a groan and turned his head away. That was it. It was noon and he has been pacing around the room for hours now. His crisp suit was drenched in sweat, and his straightforward mind was clouded with thoughts. It was about time that he took care of himself. After a quick shower and a change into more comfortable clothes, he would figure out what to do about America. For now though, he had to push the pressing issue to the back of his mind. England stumbled into the master bedroom and zipped open his suitcase. There wasn't much of a point in putting his clothes away when he was leaving that night. England smiled as his eyes landed on his union jack bandana. Maybe he should dress casually. His flight would leave at nine, but he would probably have to get there at seven to go through security, so he had around seven hours.

England laid his bandana, a black pair of pants, and a red tee-shirt onto the bed, then he hopped into the shower, first checking to ensure that France was not hiding somewhere. Hey, he had his reasons. It would not be the first time he had found that frog in his room.

The hot water pounded his back as he closed his eyes and thought. He had no idea why America bothered to spend so much money just to celebrate his birthday. Not only did he pay all expenses that made the party, but he also insisted that he pay the hotel bill for everyone, which ended up being at a very expensive hotel might he want to add. Then there was still Canada's "surprise" party, which he spent almost as much as he did for his own. Even though America was annoying, he had a big heart. No wonder why the boy was so deep in debt! Maybe if he didn't spend so much he would have some money to pay off everything that he owes! He still couldn't understand why he did it every year. It could possibly be to impress them or maybe because he wanted to boast about how large and flashy his parties always are. Either way, England could never see himself throwing such a big party every year. His was discreet and low-key. Until the alcohol kicked in.

The shower was warm and soothing, and England was happy to have all of that sweat washed off of him. He quickly got dressed and considered pulling on his leather jacket that he usually wore with the outfit, but quickly decided against it; it was way too hot outside. After getting dressed, Britain returned to the living area and stared at his phone. He sat down on the white leather sofa and flipped it open. There were plenty of new messages from France, but that wasn't anything new.

France was always sending him the weirdest text messages. It was mostly just him blabbering on about how beautiful the day was, how beautiful he was, which country he was in,and what he was eating. In fact, England couldn't remember the last time France sent him a serious message. It was as if France had chronically mistaken England's number for his own inane personal blog. He clicked on their conversation and scanned over the new messages with little care.

_Frog (don't answer):_

_That party was amazing! I am ready to crash though, I hope I don't pass out in the taxi_

_I'm so tired that I can barely move. I'm at the hotel, room 14b on the 30th floor if you want to stop by again ;) _

_How do I set the alarm clock on my phone? I want to be awake by 8_

_I hate electronics_

_Never mind, Canada showed me. It's so hard to work these things_

_Had a nice sleep, how about you?_

_Just took a shower and got dressed, I look fabulous right now! I'll send you a picture if you want!_

_[New image from: Frog (don't answer)]_

_Just stopped by America's apartment, he wasn't home. Is that weird, or do you think that he is still returning the boat?_

_It's hot today, but it feels nice. I heard that it's going to pour later, but that's in the afternoon_

_I'm eating at the best dinner ever, the food is so good! America can't cook gourmet food, but when it comes to simplicity he ranks at the top. The waitress is hilarious also!_

_Just finished eating at the diner_

_Going out with Canada, Japan, Italy, Romano, Spain, Germany, and Prussia to tour New York, do you want to come?_

England rolled his eyes at all of the ridiculous messages that were sent to him. If France hates electronics so much, then he doesn't see why he bothers to text him every bloody time he does something! England shook his head and continued scrolling through his phone. He paused when a new notification caught his eye.

_Seven missed calls from: America_

England felt his stomach tighten, he couldn't help but wonder why America had called him. He took a deep breath before dialing the boy's number. As the ringing started, England's throat went dry and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He didn't even know what he was going to say back to him. Just as he was about to hang up and forget about calling him back. The phone clicked and he held his breath instantly. A bright voice replied, "Freedom speaking!"

England pulled the phone away from his ear to avoid America hearing him let out a shaky breath. He then brought the phone back to him and masked his nervousness with his usual head strong voice, "Is that really how you usually answer the phone?"

America let out a loud laugh that hurt England's ears, causing him to wince. "Only when I know that it's you who's calling! So what's up?"

"_What's up? _You called me seven times, that's what's up."

"Oh yeah! Dude, where were you the whole party? I called because I thought that you jumped off the yacht and drowned." England could almost picture America's huge and naive smile as he talked.

England hesitated and suddenly found the red rug a very interesting sight, "Well, I was there."

"And?" America's teasing tone vanished as he waited for an answer.

He took a deep breath, "I might have... avoided you the whole time."

The was a tense silence on both sides of the line, England thought that America hung up before he heard a sigh, "Dude, why? What do I do every year that gets you so upset?" The voice sounded sad and confused, making England instantly feel even more guilty than he already felt.

"America, y-you didn't do anything this year that upset me. I enjoyed your party, I really did. Also New York is lively as always and it's always nice to return."

"But you never stay!" America complained. "You book a flight the second the party's over!"

"That's not true!" He quickly defended.

"Oh really? Your flight leaves tonight, doesn't it?" There was a pause, for England didn't have to answer a question America already knew the answer to. "Yeah, that's what I thought." America replied, sounding a bit like a kicked puppy.

"Well sorry that you're used to getting everything you want," He snapped back at the American. "You're such a spoiled brat sometimes! You throw the biggest parties just to celebrate your bloody birthday, which is not really your birthday since you weren't born on that day, might I just add. You get a pile of presents, you do whatever the hell you want no matter what anybody says, and you are always getting your way! So I'm _sorry._ I'm bloody sorry that the second you can't get what you wish for, you pout and force others into doing what you want. If I want to leave after the bloody party, I'll _leave._ There isn't anything that you can do about it!"

There was no noise after England's rant, he couldn't even tell if America was breathing on the other side of the phone call. "Alrighty then..." America murmured after a minute in uncomfortable silence.

England instantly regretted his words, "America I didn't me-"

"No, it's fine," America said, almost cheerfully dismissing him. He still sounded a bit upset, but England couldn't tell if he really was or not. "If you wanna go back to Europe, then do so. I'm not stopping you." He paused for a moment and his voice became serious once again, "Look, I was really searching for you because I wanted to say I'm-" he cut himself off as he heard a door shut. England heard it too, he must have missed America putting him on speaker. "Hang on a sec, kay?"

"Is somebody there?" England asked. He wouldn't know who would be visiting America since almost everybody was still sleeping due to the long hours at the party, had went home already, or had gone touring the city with France.

"Looks like it, must be somebody giving me a late birthday present, I'll be right back!" Something didn't feel right. If it were a guest, wouldn't they have knocked instead of just barging right in? He didn't know much about Americans, but he was sure that walking into somebody's house without notice would be considered rude even here. England started to wonder how they even got into the house anyways, he was going to hit America upside the head if he regularly left his house unlocked. "Oh hey guys, you came early. You know thatchya supposed to come tomorrow, right?" America could barely be heard through the phone since he was a distance away. England became even more concerned as he continued listening at the edge of his seat. He was one hell of a detective, and something was definitely out of place.

"Guys?" His voice shook as he called out, "What are you doing?" England jumped as a loud crash could be heard.

"AMERICA!?" He yelled through the phone.

"_STOP!_ DON'T YOU DARE, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" America screamed empty threats at his attackers. England could hear feet shuffle, objects shattering against a wooden floor, punching, kicking, and bodies being slammed into the wall. Someone let out a pained scream before stumbling back to their feet. A few muffled cracks could be heard, along with wet coughing. From the sounds of it, America was putting up quite the fight. England wasn't sure if it was enough though. America was a strong country, but it sounded like there was a hell of a lot more than a couple people attacking him.

The noise suddenly shifted. England inferred that the phone must have gone flying to the ground. Suddenly a body plopped down on the ground next to the phone. Hands fumbled with it for a moment then it was held up to the person's ear. England could hear raspy panting through the call and hesitated for a split second before speaking clearly, calmly and directly. "Who is this."

The person swallowed and with a cracking voice spoke up, "Yo England, dude…. it's me. I'm OK. I think I got them all, I don't know how long they'll be down though."

England was so relieved that his stomach hurt, "America, I'll save the questions for later. Just get out of there. _Now. _Go somewhere safe, and I will meet you there, alright?" He closed the door to his hotel room behind him and began racing through the hallways.

America's panting was sharp, and he started to wonder how badly injured the boy was, "Alright. I'll. See. If. I can. Get... Up. And..." America grunted and the phone clanked against whatever he used to heave himself up. His feet started thumping against the wooden floor and Britain could only guess that he was walking. "It's hard to breathe," America whimpered through harsh breaths, "I think they broke my ribs, and a couple more bones. They can't stop me….I'm the hero…I'm almost to the door and-"

**_BANG_**

England stopped in his tracks and held his breath at the sudden sound of a gunshot. America screamed and the phone crashed on the ground with him. England had a horrible sick feeling in the pit of his stomach while he waited for something to happen. The phone was grabbed once again by a pair of shaky hands, and he could hear America's uneven breathing, "America! Were you shot!?

America let out a pained moan before answering, "Yeah... my back... I don't think... I can meet you... I'm... sorry."

"AMERICA! NO DON'T GIVE UP, YOU CAN DO ANYTHING, JUST GET UP!" Tears were streaming down the Brit's face and his voice cracked as he yelled into the phone.

"Before I go... just remember... whatever happens... after this... it's not their fault..."

**_BANG_**

America screamed in pain after another shot rang through the air. The phone plopped onto the ground and with a loud thump America collapsed again. His breathing slowed, and it seemed like he was fighting for consciousness. "It's... mine."

"AMERICA!" His breathing stopped and everything went quiet, England didn't move a muscle and waited for any sign that America was still alive, but there was nothing.

Footsteps could be heard and they got closer and closer to the phone. Then they stopped. The phone was picked up, and put to somebody's ear. He could hear the person panting. From what he knew, the person sounded a little disoriented, but not dizzy enough to not be able to shoot a gun. They said nothing.

"Whoever you are, this is your chance to walk away without this situation getting ugly. If you do anything to that boy, I swear on my life that it will be the last thing you ever do, because you will not get away with this." His voice was terrifyingly calm, and it was seeping with the promise to kill.

He was expecting some kind of a response, and was hoping that they would say something to determine who this was, but there wasn't. The only response his threat had was a click, and the call ended. England didn't even know what to do anymore. He stood there numbly staring at his phone in some kind of a trance. His perpetually busy mind froze, leaving him immobile. He stayed like that for a couple of minutes before he felt a sudden buzz. England glanced down at his phone.

_One new message from: America_

Now he could clearly hear his heart thumping as he pressed on to view the message.

_The personification of the United Kingdom,_

_I apologize for this. I was not expecting you to insist on becoming involved with this little event. I am not certain if I should invite you to play the game or ban you from it, but no worries for me. No matter how you react to this, Alfred will no longer be the personification of the United States of America. The game will be won by the time you figure out the rules and the players. Don't blame yourself though, that's Alfred's job. It would be much safer if you were to forget about this and return to your country, but based on that friendly chat we just had, that isn't going to happen. If you're still willing to join the game in search for your former brother, then I advise you not to drag anymore personifications you care about into the game with you. After all, everyone who plays the game is going to get hurt, for only one of us can come out on top, and that will be me. I would wish you luck, but the truth be that I do not want you to have any. Goodbye for now, I might see you sometime, but you wouldn't want that to happen, for that little meeting would result in your death._

_- The winner of the game._

England read it, then reread it, then reread it again. He had so many questions, but no answers. He tried to call the phone again, but it immediately went to voicemail. The attacker must have broken the phone the second the message was sent. Britain's hands were shaking now as he dialed a number, he bit his lip as he heard the ringing.

The ringing came to an end and a smooth French accent answered the phone, "Angleterre, mon cher! Have you decided that you want to tour the place with us after all? Or maybe meet up with me later?"

"France, where are you right now?"

France paused after hearing the seriousness in his tone, "I'm on the Empire State Building with the others, why? Is something wrong?"

"_Very _wrong. Meet me at America's apartment. America is in serious danger."

He was expecting some joke about how America probably ate his cooking or something of the sort, but no snide comment came. "Alright, I will bring the others also." France replied quickly. No matter how much the frog irked him, he had his heart in the right place. England thought about what that person meant about not dragging the others into this "game" he so often referenced. He decided to ignore and hung up on France without saying anything.

As he raced out of the hotel to jump into a taxi, he wondered about this person. This person was definitely dangerous, and they knew about the personifications. This combination was deadly. It was almost a given that they knew how to execute a nation also.

England had thought that they could have been a government official possibly, but the most probable and plausible explanation is that they themselves were a personification.

This person also had help; England heard America fighting more than one person earlier.

From the little that he had heard and seen, it was fairly clear that they were intending on taking America's role as a nation away from him somehow. England didn't know how exactly that would be possible, but he was determined to stop it.

Also there was the ominous "game" the message alluded to. Apparently there were rules, and players. He didn't know anything about it, or how to even begin "playing."

But he was going to find out. His people have always been seen as a testimony to tradition. Proud. Stubborn. Dangerous. No three words could better fit him. He was the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Whoever was playing this "game" had better watch out, for he was coming.

England stepped out into the sunlight and caught a taxi. He gave the man directions to America's apartment to meet France. Little did England know, he had taken the first step, blindly playing himself right into the hands of the chessmaste.

XXX

**Author's note: And to America's apartment they go! Hey guys! Sorry about the short chapter, but next chapter is going to be really long, so bare with me please. Thank you for the reviews/favorites/follows/views by the way! I wanted to post this chapter this week because in just 6 days I'm going on vacation to the Cayman Islands! They drive on the left side of the road there! So I may or may not be able to post the next chapter by then, if not then I won't post anything before the 19th. Don't worry though I will try to fit it in there!**


	3. Stay Away From Outsiders

Canada sat in the taxi glaring at his former guardian. The French nation had refused to give him any more information on what happened to America, and also refused to tell why they were racing to his apartment. The ride had been quiet so far, which was odd since Prussia and Germany were in the cab with them. Canada imagined that if Germany wasn't going to talk, then at least Prussia would burst out something completely irrational just to break the silence. He didn't utter a word though. He continued to stare out the window, leaning over Germany to get a better view.

"F-Francis," he called out trying to get his attention. The blond barely let out a murmur and continued scrolling down his phone, "Francis," he tried again, but his response was the same. Canada rolled his eyes and snatched the phone out of his hands. France looked up at him, but still didn't say anything. Canada glanced down at France's phone in his hands to see a blank screen, "Is your phone even on?"

France shrugged, "Possibly. I put it on lock and I don't know how to unlock it."

Canada glared at him, "So you have been _pretending_ to scroll down your phone?"

With another shrug from France, Canada let out a frustrated sigh. "So _nobody _is going to talk about Ame- Alfred?" He stole a cautious side-glance at the taxi driver before continuing, "you get a phone call from Arthur who says that Alfred's in serious danger, and now we are in the taxi on the way to his house, and nobody wants to talk about it?"

"There isn't anything to talk about," France stated passively.

Anger swelled up in the usually timid Canadian, as his passive attitude molded into aggression. "'I-Isn't anything to talk about,' you say! Alfred's in danger, that's what we have to talk about! Did Arthur say anything else? Did he have a stroke, is something going on with the people or the government or-or I don't know!" He threw his hands up in defeat, "did anybody call the cops?"

France gave him a look of sympathy, "I know that you're upset with him being your brother and all, but the cops can't get involved."

"Why not?" He asked desperately. "H-How would you know?"

Something gleamed in France's eyes that made Canada flinch. France leaned forward and he had a far off look as if he weren't there anymore, it gave Canada chills. "His voice," France murmured. "He only uses that voice every couple of centuries."

"What about his voice?" Canada demanded. Prussia planted his hand firmly on Canada's shoulder and squeezed, telling him not to press any further.

France responded anyways, "In his voice, was fear. This was a certain kind of fear though, one that only comes around every once in a while. It is a natural fear with our kind, it is the fear of one of us desolving."

Canada's eyes were as wide as saucers now and he stared at France in shock, "you d-don't mean-"

"No," France stated. "His country is strong, it's not going anywhere for a very long time."

"B-but what about A-Al-"

Canada cut himself off when he noticed the sadness that reflected from France's eyes. "I don't know how it would happen, but the danger is real. I could hear it in his voice."

Canada felt sick to his stomach and tears welled up in his eyes. "Here," he croaked as he unlocked the phone for France and tossed it in his lap. He no longer felt like talking along with every other nation in the cab. He numbly gazed at France, eyes pleading for him to say that everything was going to be alright, but nothing of the sort came from the country. France was once again staring far off into nothing and absent-mindedly scrolling through his phone.

France always had an expression that went along with his emotion. He was one of the more expressive and sensitive countries. Looking at his eyes, Canada saw fragile blankness.

Canada was a listener; the ultimate wall-flower. He had learned to read emotions past the superficial surface. Beneath the placid surface of his "Papa's" violet-blue eyes, a storm was brewing.

The cab came to a stop and was now parked outside of America's apartment. Germany thanked the taxi driver and gave him a suspiciously grand tip, for he was unsure exactly how much the man had requested. The taxi driver almost exited the cab to kiss Germany for the large sum of money he was given, but Germany didn't notice him. The stern and focused man was on a mission. As the ecstatic taxi driver drove off, another taxi parked and out came Spain, Romano, Italy, and Japan. They all stood in front of a modern brick building. There was a hedge-lined black metal fence guarding two small sections of grass on each side of the house. Slim stone steps led to a large wooden door that America had shoved open to eagerly welcome his guests many times.

England popped up from behind a rectangular hedge, causing Canada to jump. "I was waiting for you." France stepped towards the English country and was about to say something, but England hushed him with a wave of his hand. "Listen closely," he whispered. "There's someone _in_ there, and it is not America." That statement silenced every comment that was about to be made about how hilariously crazy he looked at the moment.

The nations creeped up the front steps and stared cautiously at the door. Japan was the first one who pulled open the door slowly to avoid any noise it would make. "Try to stay along the wall," he warned barely above a whisper. "This is a very old building, the floorboards are lose in the middle of the hallway and will make a lot of noise. The edges are more secure, for they are supported by the wall." When receiving understanding nods from the others, Japan started to lead the others into the building. In a single file line they light-footedly followed Japan along the wall.

They were greeted with a dull looking hallway covered in worn wooden floors and aged wallpaper. To the right of the hallway was a set of wooden stairs that led to the second floor. Canada was never able to understand this building. The outside was modern, the hallways were ancient, and the apartments were whatever the residents made them into. America's apartment was modish with a slight New York theme to it. It was the first apartment to the left, giving him one of the front windows to the building. That worried him, what if they were already noticed by the person who was in there?

They reached America's apartment, and everybody stared at the door, not knowing who was beyond it. Canada stepped up and offered to hold his ear against the hollow wood. Monotone murmuring came from the TV, and soft footsteps padded through the house. He gave a small nod to the others, indicating that there was indeed someone in there. His heart nearly jumped when he realized that the footsteps were getting closer and closer to the door. Then they stopped.

Canada was shaking when he lifted his ear from the door. He slightly leaned forward and his eyes lingered over a small crack in the door, where he would usually be able to see part of the apartment through it. Instead the only thing he saw was a gray eye staring back at him. Canada jumped back almost as quickly as the person on the other side of the door did. "H-Hey!" Canada called out. There was no reply. The TV was turned off and the footsteps disappeared. Canada lifted his leg and pushed it into the door with all of the force he could muster. The door came flying down and Canada burst into the apartment. The rest followed to be greeted by silence.

"They're hiding and waiting for the right time to sneak out," Germany commanded. "I'll guard the door. Italies; kitchen. Prussia and Spain; bathroom. Japan and Canada; bedrooms. England and France will check the media room. Go!" Everybody separated in pairs and began searching the house.

Canada and Japan ran through the apartment until they reached a very short hallway with a door on each side, "There are two bedrooms," Japan panted. "You check America's and I'll check the guest bedroom, alright?" Then Japan cautiously stepped into the room on the left side of the hallway, leaving Canada staring at the right.

Canada tip-toed over to the door and slowly eased it open. Light emitted into the room for a moment until he closed the door behind him, once again leaving the room in darkness. The room was very still. Ruffled sheets were piled onto the bed, showing that it was used over the night, and a couple of comic books were loitering around. The only thing moving was the white bathrobe that was hung on the door, slightly swinging from when Canada closed it. Canada's heart thumped as he wondered where to search first. His eyes scanned over the closed closet door, but after seeing a shadow underneath the bed, he decided to search there first. He crouched down and crawled over to the bed. His breathing grew sharp and his pulse quickened. He didn't even know what he was going to do if the invader was in here with him.

As he crawled closer to the bed, the shadow started to take shape. It was large, bulky, and by the shape of it, the figure was curled up. Canada stayed there for a moment, on his hands and knees, eyeing the thing, then he launched himself at it. His elbows banged against the bottom of the bed, and his long hair curl entangled with something under there, but he didn't care. His hands gripped a material that felt like the rough jeans and he struggled with it for a minute or two. He let out a grunt before being able to finally drag it out from under the bed, to find out that it was really... light. Canada paused to examine the thing. On the floor besides him was a large bulky suitcase, which he now had an iron grip on. He was wrestling a suitcase... Canada threw his head back and let out a frustrated groan at his discovery. A quick and discreet movement caught his attention.

The closet door was now open.

Canada felt something drop in the pit of his stomach when he suddenly felt an object being pushed against his head. As slowly as possible, he turned slightly to see the last thing he was hoping for; the object was a gun. "Get up." The male voice was sharp and commanding. Canada followed the demand instantly and shot up from the floor, causing the person to hiss, "not so fast!"

Canada slowly raised both of his hands and turned around when he was steadily on his feet. A man a couple inches shorter than himself pointed a gun at him. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but his short hair looked brown and he had a gray eye that almost shined in a metallic way, the other eye was closed, Canada guessed that it was to perfect his dead-on aim on the gun. "Who are you?" Canada asked barely above a whisper.

The man smiled cynically. "It's not like you haven't heard that question before. Right Canada?" Canada's eyes widened when he called him by his country name. This man knew what they _are! _"You shouldn't be questioning me with a gun in hand by the way. One wrong word and my finger could slip, blowing your head clean off your shoulders. Or it could be messy. Now you're going to help me out of here, alright?"

Canada kept his eyes on the gun, it was just out of arms reach. "W-Why should I help you?" Canada asked. He just needed him an inch closer.

The man took that as a challenge and took a step further, drawing the gun closer as a threat, "You think that I won't use this?"

Canada's hand shook when the gun came closer. He had watched this in many of America's spy movies. In the blink of an eye, Canada swung his fist at the gun and knocked it out of the man's hands. The weapon flew to the other side of the room, leaving the man staring after it dumbfounded. "JAPAN!" Canada screamed at the top of his lungs. He launched himself at the man, but he easily dodged him. As Japan slammed the bedroom door open, the man flew past him before he even knew what was going on. "That was him!" Japan whipped around and ran down the hallway. Canada scrambled for the gun before following him.

The apartment was in chaos. Spain and Prussia were banging on the bathroom door, for they were locked in. France and England were having the same problem in the media room until one of them kicked down the door. The man was now in the kitchen. He swung open the fridge door and grabbed a full gallon of milk. He then chucked the gallon on the floor. The plastic exploded and the milk streamed everywhere. Italy and Romano were now on the floor, one crying and the other one cursing. Every time it looked like one of them were about to get up, they would slip once again on the white liquid. The brunett hopped onto the counter and escaped the kitchen. When he landed, he was almost tackled to the floor by France and England, but once again slipped away from anyone's grip, and was even able to deliver quite a blow to the face to France. Canada tried to aim the gun at him, but wasn't able to get a steady shot. He was moving too fast and dodged behind furniture when he knew he was in range.

When he had reached the living room, instead of running for the door like everybody had anticipated, he ran to the window. He leaped over the couch and barreled through the glass. "No!" One of them called out. Canada ran to the window. The man was now to his feet and hopped over the hedge. Germany raced outside with Canada close behind him. When they burst out of the apartment, they stared desperately up and down the street. Germany ran to the left and Canada to the right. Canada sprinted down the sidewalk until he saw a body lying on the street about seven buildings from the apartment.

The man's brown hair was now matted with blood and his skin had shards of glass jutting out of crudely carved gashes. The only man crazy enough to wear a scarf during July stood over him with a metal drain pipe that was dripping with the man's blood. "Russia? What are you doing here?" Canada asked through pants.

Russia glanced up at him, "Oh hello, America. I decided to come over because I forgot to give you your present, then I saw this man crash through your window. I thought he broke in, so I took him down with this pipe. Good thing I was here, da?"

Canada had to stop himself from groaning, "Russia, I am not America, remember? I am Canada, America's brother."

Russia paused and studied the man through squinted eyes, "What? You sure look like America."

Canada took a deep breath, "Yes, but I'm not him. That man did break into America's apartment though. I'm bringing him back for questioning. Thank you. Without you, he would have gotten away."

Russia bent down and picked up a wrapped present off of the floor, "I will go with you then!"

Canada wasn't quite sure about having another nation involved. He wasn't even sure what was happening, where America was, or what kind of situation they were all in, let alone whether or not it would be a good idea to bring Russia with him back to the apartment. But he didn't have much of a choice. Russia made a better friend than enemy and did help him catch the intruder, so it was only polite to allow him to help out more. Canada sighed, "I guess that you can come. We should go back to the apartment before we attract a crowd." Canada crouched down and gently lifted up the man.

They both walked back to the apartment in silence. When they reached the front door, Germany came rushing up to them. "He wasn't that way, did you-" He cut himself off after seeing the man in his arms and Russia walking besides him. "What happened, and what is Russia doing here?"

"Russia knocked him out with his pipe," Canada explained. He carried the man into the building and laid him down on the lavender couch when he entered the apartment. Everybody was still recovering from such an unexpected event. One of them unlocked the bathroom and Spain and Prussia were now helping the Italy brothers get up without slipping again. Their fists were bright red from banging on the door. Japan was mopping up the milk, making it easier for Spain and Prussia to help out. England was now out in the hallway, the other residents heard all of the ruckus and were now asking questions. He gave them all satisfying answers without giving away too much and they soon returned to their apartments. France was inspecting his newly received black eye before he started to help Germany reattach the door to the wall.

Russia soon joined Canada next to the couch, "Who is he?"

Canada shook his head, "I have no idea. I don't know anything about this." Right now Canada was craving an explanation more than anything. He had too many questions that deserved answers, and he was determined to get them soon.

After a while everything seemed to calm down. All of the other residents were gone, the door was once again reconnected to the wall, the kitchen was clean, and everybody was in the living room. England sat on the other couch, explaining everything thing that happened. From the beginning of the phone call to the moment they arrived at America's apartment, and Canada was more than a little shocked. While America had a lot of enemies, Alfred as a person was loveable. He could be blind and annoying, but Canada couldn't imagine any personification wishing to kill him. One of the many things that bothered Canada was that there was more than one person who attacked America. Not only couldn't he imagine a personification trying to kill America, but he couldn't even begin to think about this person having allies.

Romano turned his head to gaze at the unconscious figure spread on the couch. "So what do we do with the bastardo?"

"We question him, find out who he works with, and where America is." England stated.

Canada eyed the man with caution, "I think that he's a personification, too."

Everybody turned their attention to him, "Are you sure?"

Canada nodded, "He referred to me as _Canada._"

The was a pause, "It's true," England stated. "The text message referred to me as the United Kingdom."

Russia took a step forward and rested his hand on the man's head where he was hit with the pipe. He took it back and stared at the others, ignoring the blood that coated his hand. "I agree with you, his wound is already healing without any medical treatment at all." Canada would have felt bad for the personification if he didn't believe he kidnapped his brother, the man's wounds most likely healed around the shards of glass planted in his skin. Canada knew from experience that to get every piece of glass out takes a lot of time, and exceptional amounts of pain.

"So, since we're questioning him, shouldn't we tie him up or something?" Prussia asked. "After all, this one's slippery, he could probably get away with no problem."

Canada shook his head. With a tentative but proud smile, he took the gun out for all eyes to see, "I don't think that's going to happen if he has _this_ pointed at him." The other nations looked at him in surprise.

Russia began brightly. "Besides, even though it's healing, I did leave a big nasty dent in his head. That's going to leave a head ache, so he won't jump through the window again." As Russia finished his sentence, the mysterious personification began to stir. Every nation in the room tensed up as the man let out a groan.

"What the fuck happened?" he grumbled in an accent that Canada wasn't able to recognize. He sluggishly planted a hand over his indented head, "Did I go drinking again?" He hesitated as he probably felt warm liquid through his red-stained hair. He held his hand in front of his squinted eyes. His eyes widened slightly in shock and he instantly threw one of his hands over his left eye. He propped himself up to a sitting position, which seemed like a painful task for him due to his wincing and the amount of cuss words he mouthed. He slouched forward and scanned the area. After realizing what kind of situation he was in, he leaned back against the couch and crossed his legs, "_oh._"

England gestured to the gun pointed at him, "Yeah, _oh_. Now, what is your name?"

"Jay Excelsior," he answered almost too easily.

Romano looked up. "A latin name. It means 'Ever Upward'."

Germany stared at him, "You know. Most people who end up captured after trying to run away from them usually hesitate before giving any information away. Is that your _real _name?"

Jay shrugged, not saying anymore. Japan kneeled next to the couch, and started to inspect his wounds. The moment Japan even slightly brushed against his hand, Jay hissed and drew it back, "Do you mind? That hurts like a bitch!" Even though the way he talked was very laid back, and the accent he had earlier was caked over with an average America accent.

Japan stared at his hand for a moment. There was a red stripe that wrapped all the way around his wrist, it almost shined as he stared at it, "Is that a tattoo?"

Jay glared at him, "There are glass shards sticking out of my hand, and _that's_ what you're looking at? Wow, what a help you are in the medical field." His tone was dry and sarcastic, and he rested his hand on his side.

Japan pointed to his left hand that covered his eye, "Is something wrong with your eye?"

Jay shrugged, "It hurts, I might have gotten glass in it."

"Will you let me see it? It will bring you harm later if you do not tend to it."

"How? Why can't you just let it be?" He turned his head and held his hand closer to his eye when Japan learned forward to get a better look.

Japan reached for his hand once again, but Jay squirmed in his seat to avoid any contact, "That would be because your wounds will heal over and around glass shards that went into your skin when you jumped out of the window. You have to let me see or else you're going to get an infection."

Jay stubbornly shook his head, "I'll take the infection, just don't touch me."

"So you're a personification?" France pressed.

The man tore his gaze from Japan and stared at France in confusion, "A what?"

"A country. your wound healed very quickly, that would be because it wasn't caused by anything effecting your country."

Jay shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about. People can't be countries."

Canada had the gun pointed at him, "You know that's a lie. Answer the question or I'll shoot."

Jay let out a dry laugh, "You might as well just shoot me now. I'm not going to say a word, so the only thing that I'm doing is wasting your damn time. Besides, even if I do answer all of your questions, you're going to shoot me anyway."

Canada's gaze softened, "You really believe that we would do that?"

Jay stared back at him, hatred reflected off of his gray eye, "Of course, you're _countries. _You guys only care for someone if it's for your own benefit, and when they're no longer useful, you throw them away. You're _monsters._" Canada flinched as he spat the title at them. There was a hint of satisfaction though, because he gave away that he does know about countries, which officially declares him as a suspect.

"Well what are _you_ then, a saint?" England asked. It looked like all of his patience ran out. He leaned over the coffee table, "What exactly are you, and why did you kidnap America?"

The last question seemed to throw him off, "Wait, what about America?"

Spain rolled his eyes, "Oh please. Don't act like you don't know. Now where's America?" Jay stared back blankly at him, concern actually flashed in his eyes. The Spanish nation then took a step back in shock. "Dios mio! You don't know?"

An argument broke out between the nations, leaving Jay sitting there dumbfounded. "Hey, guys." He was ignored. Jay stared towards the door, probably wondering if he could just walk out unnoticed, but then there was still the question of what happened to America. He shot up from his seat and glared at the group, "HEY, EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" The arguing died down and everybody stared at the mystery personification, "Now what happened to America?"

England crossed his arms, "So now you suddenly start caring about us 'monsters' when America's name is mentioned? What exactly is your connection with him?"

Fear flashed through Jay's eyes, "Doesn't matter, now what happened to America?" Canada noticed how quickly his American accent was slipping as his concern grew.

England looked like he wanted to argue, but France landed a hand on his shoulder, "Just tell him."

England sighed in annoyance. He obviously didn't trust this personification enough to give any information away, "I was on the phone with him, and I heard a door close. America said that they were just guests dropping off a late birthday present, but when he tried to talk to him, they didn't respond. Then they attacked him. America almost made it out of there, but then they brought out a gun..."

Jay stared at him, horrified, "So America was _shot, _and here you are arguing with me?" Jay started pacing back and forth in anger, Canada was wondering whether he should make him sit down or not. "Why are you-" His pacing stopped, and he turned to England, eyes wide in horror and realization, "You think that I had something to do with this!?" He reached into his jean pockets and pulled out a disposable phone, "So I'm guessing that America failed to mention over the phone that he was in D.C. and not in New York."

England raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise, "What?" Jay pressed a couple of buttons before tossing it to the English nation. Canada leaned over his shoulder to see a voicemail playing. England put it on speaker for the rest to hear.

_"One new voicemail from: America. Sent at: 11:14 AM"_

_"Yo, Empire! I just arrived at the house, and I left a couple of things at the apartment, do you mind if you bring them next time you come over? I'll text you the list. Call me back!"_

The call ended and everybody was looking up at Jay now, "Wow! You're an empire?" Italy asked.

Jay shrugged and snatched the phone back from England. "There, ya see? I'm not some physco killer or anything. Well thank you for breaking the door down and leaving me with no other choice but to jump out the window, it's been fun. I'll be leaving now, and good luck with whatever else you're going to be doing. Have a good day!" His American accent returned and he turned towards the door

He started to walk off before Germany caught him by the back of his shirt and lowered him back on the couch, causing Jay to hiss in pain, "Not so fast, we still have questions."

Jay glared at the German nation, "What else is there to ask?"

Italy hesitated, "Oh! I know! I can think of a lot! What are you doing in America's apartment? Why did America call you Empire? Are you America's friend? Why do you drive on the right side of the road instead of the left? Do you have any pasta in this house? Also, why in the world would you waste so much milk!?"

"I wasn't intending on wasting the milk, pasta's in the pantry, and we just do, why do you drive on the left?"

Romano let out a frustrated groan, "Why in the world did I tag along with these stupido people? Right now I could be on a plane on my way to a continent that makes sense, but no! Now I'm stuck with these bastardos until this stubborn assino answers some _meaningful_ questions, and why? I know why! It's because Italy just _had _to see the Empire State Building! It's just a damn sky scraper, there's nothing special about it!"

Canada's eyes widened and his head whipped to Romano, "Say that again!"

Romano cowered at his intense gaze. "There's nothing special about it? I mean… uh…It's a lovely landmark? Si, that's what I said. I was not insulting the mediocre architecture of your brother, no, not at all!"

He shook his head, "No, not that! What building did we go to?"

"The Empire State Building!" Italy chimed in.

"Why's it called the Empire State Building?" He quizzed.

"It's in New York?" Spain guessed.

Canada nodded eagerly, "and what's New York?"

"The Empire State..." England finished.

Prussia stared at his phone, "It say here that 'Excelsior' is the motto of New York."

Everybody turned to Jay, who stared back at them horrified. He let out a smooth laugh, but nothing was able to hide the fear in his showing eye. "You guy's aren't serious. _That's_ your conclusion? Wow, I have to admit that I didn't think you were that dumb."

"You're a state!" England raged, "exactly how long was America planning to hide this from us?"

Jay shot up from his seat, "I am not! You don't know anything! You can't just jump to conclusions like that!" He started to walk away, but Canada reached out and yanked his hand from covering his left eye. Canada didn't know what to expect; blood, a long piece of glass, a missing eye, or something worse. He just couldn't help but think about all of the guests at the party. They had to be connected some how, Jay didn't jump out the window head first, and then he claimed that he just happened to get glass in the same eye everybody covered at the party, Canada doubted that was the truth. And Canada was right. Jay slowly turned around and opened his eye slightly. There was no blood, or glass. His left eye was solid dark blue, and a shining white star was in the center, acting as the pupil. Canada gasped and stumbled backwards, using the couch to catch himself.

Jay winced at his reaction, "Looks that weird, huh? It came with the ratification to the union." He closed his eyes and sighed, then he turned around to face the other nations, "I guess I should give you a proper introduction then, my name is New York." His voice was more gentle and he slipped into the complete Brooklyn accent he tried to hide before, "and yes, I am a state."

Germany took a deep breath, "Alright, New York, you are going to sit down and answer our questions now, _truthfully_."

The personification of New York crossed his arms, "No. I already said too much."

Germany narrowed his eyes, "You might want to do as we say. From the looks of it, this whole state thing is supposed to be a secret. We won't hesitate to tell all of the other nations that you exist."

New York glared at him before slowly taking a seat next to Canada, "Alright, what do you want to know."

England took a step forward, "How long have you been alive?"

New York shrugged, "a very long time. Before the revolution."

Canada pointed to his eye, "Did you always have that?"

He shook his head, "I already said that I got it when I joined the union."

Japan pointed to his wrist, "and I'm guessing that is not a tattoo."

"It's a stripe."

"As in the stripes on the flag?" Italy asked. New York nodded, "Aren't there supposed to be more?"

New York stared down at the stripe, "I was the eleventh state to ratify, so I got the eleventh stripe on the flag."

"So there's more of you," France concluded.

"A personification for each state."

England was baffled, "S-So there's _fifty_ of you, and America never bothered to say anything!? Not even when he was a colony, he sure never mentioned it!"

"Yes, and it was supposed to be kept that way, the others are going to murder me," New York muttered.

There was a pause, "Hey, New York. Do you think that one of the states would... harm America?" Italy murmured the question.

There was a pause, and New York studied the floor, "y-yes. I'm sure that one of them did it now." Canada watched New York stare at the ground in shame. It must have been hard for him to admit that somebody of his kind would betray their leader like that.

Canada himself felt sick to his stomach. The fact that his brother, his own brother would hide such a secret from him really took a toll on his trust he implanted in America. Sure his brother was as destructive as ever, loud, and annoying, but he never knew America would keep such a lie from Canada. They have been neighbors and brothers for centuries. Canada didn't even know what to think after finding out such a thing was hidden from him.

"Do you know which one of them would do such a thing?" Canada asked quietly.

New York shook his head, "No. Any of us would do it if enough anger built up, including me. We're good people, I swear. Sometimes we just-" He cut himself off with a sigh, "Sometimes things just get complicated."

"Well, what do you get angry at?" New York didn't answer, obviously not wanting to go too deep into the topic.

"What kind of anger drives a group of states to attack their leader?" England asked.

New York jumped at the opportunity to change the subject and looked up at him, "A group?"

England nodded, "Yes. America was fighting more than one state."

A disappointed smile shattered the gloomy state he was in, "Well... forming an alliance surely wasn't a good idea."

"Why not?" France asked. "Allies always make you stronger than you already are."

New York shook his head, "No, you got it all wrong. That may be the way a nation sees it, but we're states. In this situation, an alliance destroys them. We're not just America's territory, we're his family. We have a strong sense of loyalty when it comes to being part of this country. If one of us wanted to harm America, then it would take a lot for them to get others to agree, and then actually help them out. There must be a weak link in the alliance, someone who was convinced to help, but feels guilty afterwards. How big was the group?"

"More than a couple," England stated. "Possibly more than ten."

New York's smile grew, "We should be able to break one of them down. A larger group is in our benefit." New York now held his phone in front of him and started to type on it.

"What are you doing?" Canada asked.

"I'm going to contact a couple of the states, we can't really capture the state who did it without talking to any other states but me."

"Do you have a plan?" Germany asked.

New York's posture changed. His shoulders were straight, he held his head high, and his gray eye had a calculating gleam. "Yeah, forming an alliance bought us a lot of time, and I'm not wasting a second of it. We're going to gather the states, bring them to America's house, find the weak link, and get America back."

"Do you think that we'll be able to do that?" Italy asked with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

New York gave him a confident smirk, "are you kidding? Of course we can. Just give me a half hour or so, I'll contact a few people, and we'll be ready to go." He started walking out of the living room and entered a different section of the apartment.

"What, that's it?" England called after him, "give us one good reason why we should trust you!"

Footsteps could be heard as the New Yorker popped his head back into the room and glared at the English nation, "because fate has declared me as an important player this time around. Besides, I don't have a star as an eye for no reason, I'm telling the truth, and you know it. You should also trust me because neither of us can afford the other side winning."

"Winning what?" England asked. "What do these people want to win?"

"The game." New York stated. England paled a bit after he spoke those to words, "welcome to it by the way. You're all players now." With that he turned back and continued to wherever his destination was before.

"What game?" Canada asked. "What does any of this have to do with a game, and why are we considered players?"

England's head shook in confusion, "I don't know, but we're part of it now. There really is no going back until somebody wins." Canada wondered what he meant by that. He wondered what this "game" was anyway, and why it had to be won. What was even the winner's prize? He had thousands of questions at the moment, but only one really mattered to the Canadian.

Was his brother all right?

XXX

**Author's Note: Hey everybody! Yes I know that it has been a long time, but I didn't want to post this before vacation until I was satisfied with it. The Cayman Islands were amazing! By the way for those of you who found this story before this chapter might be a little confused. Britain's name has been changed to England for this story. I also now have a beta reader who was just awesome and kind enough to edit the previous chapters! So I highly suggest that you reread the previous chapters. I decided to start the introduction of the states with New York, since almost every country visited NYC for America's birthday. So what do you think? Can NY be trusted, or is he part of the organization himself? **


	4. Please Read

Hey guys!

I would like to apologize to all of my followers who have been waiting for the next chapter. I know that it has been a really long time since I updated or did anything on fanfiction. In all honesty I lost motivation to write for a while, and then school started up again and I have been really busy trying to get used to the new school year. But don't worry! I'm slowly starting to write again and the next chapter will be coming! So please be patient and I will try to update as soon as possible! I will replace this message with the new chapter once it is ready to update. Thank you for waiting!

-Amber

Hi! I'm Kaia (northstarwarriorqueen) the beta for this story. I loved reading all your reviews, and I hope that you all stick with this story! Please sympathize with Amber- you guys are mostly students, and school is extremely time consuming and important. Thanks for understanding!

-Kaia


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